


When You're a Stranger

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, Homophobic Language, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard is fifteen when his father catches him with a boy. What happens next will affect Howard for the rest of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You're a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know why, but this story grabbed a hold of me and refused to let go until I finished it. So here it is. Done. Now I can go back and work on other stories. Stories that I need to finish.

Howard is fifteen when his father catches him with a boy. They were kissing, just kissing, but his father kicks the boy out. 

He beats Howard. He punches Howard in the face, in the stomach, even kicks him in the groin a few times. 

_Only sissies and fags cry. Are you sissy, Howard? Are you a fag?_

Howard says no. Howard always says no. But this time is different. His dad… His dad makes Howard get undressed. Then he makes Howard lean over the desk.

_Let's see if you're a fag._

Howard doesn't cry. He covers his mouth and closes his eyes and he doesn't cry. When it's done, when it's all done, his dad slaps him on the back.

_I guess you aren't._

Howard waits until his dad has left the room, then he throws up. He throws up until he can't anymore. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, dresses, and goes up to this room and takes out a straight razor that used to belong to his grandfather. He considers slitting his wrists; no one will come looking for him until morning. He lightly presses the edge to his wrist and watches a small amount of blood well up. Then he shakes his head and sets the razor aside.

He waits instead.

His father is passed out drunk when Howard walks into the den. His body jerks once as Howard slits his throat.

When his father is dead, Howard calls 911 and waits for the police.

His mother is still screaming when they cart him away.

*****

No one is very nice to him until they find out he's bleeding rectally. Then there's a hospital visit and a kit is done and a social worker comes to talk to him. 

***** 

The DA's office wrangles with Howard's lawyers and in the end he's committed to a psychiatric hospital. 

***** 

The doctor leans back in his chair and says, "You have PTSD, Howard. But don't worry, we're going to do our best to help you."

Howard folds his hands in his lap and stares at the paperweight on the doctor's desk. "Go fuck yourself."

***** 

He lets the days slip away into a gray nothing. They have no pattern. The past does not affect his present. 

His doctor calls it dissociation; Howard calls it survival. 

***** 

Three months after his eighteenth birthday, they pronounce him fit for society. His new personal assistant picks him up from the hospital and they drive to Cambridge. It takes a lot to convince his doctor that he's ready, but eventually he's allowed to go to college. 

It's a few weeks before classes start, but he and his assistant spend that time going over his schedule, refining it until he's comfortable with it. They walk it several times a day, so that he won't get lost or confused.

***** 

Howard still has time perception problems, but then, he always had. Every morning when his assistant wakes him, he's told the time and the day of the week, otherwise he might try to go to class on a weekend. 

His days are filled with classes, lab time, and schoolwork. On the weekend, he visits his doctor and designs weapons, which he sends to his brother. 

***** 

He is always a half hour early to his chemistry class. He sits in the first row closest to the exit so that when class ends, he can hurry out before the rush of students. He likes the first row because no one else does, he doesn't have to share the armrest or have inane conversations that make him want to crawl into a corner and hide.

No one bothers him and he doesn’t bother anyone else. 

Until one day—it's cold out, but not yet snowing—a boy sits next to him. Howard tenses, but doesn't look up from his chemistry book.

"You're Howard Stark," the boys says and Howard fights the urge to gather up his things and run out of the classroom.

"I don't give interviews," he mumbles, because he doesn't know what else to say.

"I'm not looking for an interview." The boy shoves his hand out to shake. "I'm Obadiah Stane."

Howard stares at the boy's hand; it looks soft and his nails are buffed and the boy is probably rich. "I don't shake hands."

"Right." The boy pulls his hand back. "We should get coffee sometime." 

"Why?" Howard glances at the boy: he has dirty blond hair and eyes that are more gray than blue and a smile that twists his mouth.

The boy shrugs. "You look like you could use a friend. And I guess I could use one too. We could go get coffee now, if you like."

"I have a schedule." He turns back to his book.

"But all you do is sit here."

Howard presses his lips together and begins to write notes in the margin of his book.

"Okay." The boy taps his foot and huffs softly. "What if I come early next time and I bring coffee with me?"

"You're allowed to do whatever you want," he says with a frown. He's just about to ask the boy to go away, when he stops and thinks. Both his doctor and his assistant think he should make friends. Maybe they'll leave him alone if he has coffee with this boy. "I take my coffee black."

"Good to know." The boy chuckles and slaps Howard on the back; he jerks away from the touch. "Sorry, sorry."

*****

He doesn’t like it when his mother visits. He sits in his favorite chair while she takes the couch. She's wearing navy colored Manolo Blahnik's to match her dress and the pearls she got for Christmas a few years ago. 

"How's school?" she asks for the third time.

And for the third time, Howard says, "Fine. It's fine."

"Good, that's good." She takes a deep breath. "Your brother's sorry he couldn't come, but he had to work. The business takes up a lot of his time." 

"Hmm." He looks over her shoulder at the window. The sky is gray and it looks like it might rain. He hopes so, he likes rain. 

"Are you going to come home for Thanksgiving?"

He shudders and turns away from her. "No."

"Your brother and I could come here?"

Howard closes his eyes. "No."

"Maybe Christmas, then?"

No, he doesn't say. "Maybe."

*****

The boy with the gray eyes looks over at Howard's notebook and tilts his head. "Is that a bomb?" He sounds almost eager and Howard covers the sketch with his hand.

"You can't see it," he says. "It's not for you. It's for my brother." 

"Your brother?"

Howard closes the notebook. "For Christmas."

"Jesus." The boy laughs. "What are you getting for your mom? A knife?" 

It feels like someone has spilled ice water down his back; he gasps and tenses.

"I didn’t mean it like that," the boy says, hands raised in placation. 

"Go away."

"Howard—" The boy tries to touch him and Howard jerks away.

"Go away," he yells and the boy quickly packs his things and rushes away. Howard's hands shake and he feels like he's going to throw up and he can't stay here. He can't, he can't, he can't. He shoves his things in his bag and leaves.

He doesn't leave his apartment for the rest of the week. Not even to see his doctor.

***** 

"What are the rules, Howard? What did you promise to do if I signed off on your release papers?"

Howard stares down at the floor, arms crossed over his chest. "I don't remember."

"Yes, you do." The doctor sighs. "Howard, look at me. Look. At. Me."

He bites his bottom lip and forces his eyes up. 

The doctor stares at him dispassionately. "What did you promise?"

"That I'd take my medication and I wouldn’t skip any of my sessions." He swallows hard and forces himself to relax his body. He can't antagonize his doctor, not if he wants to stay in school. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again, Howard," the doctor says after a moment.

"I won't. I promise."

***** 

Howard's face is cold and his feet keep slipping on the icy sidewalk as he and his assistant walk from the campus to his apartment. It snowed while he was in class and the area is blanketed with piles of white powder and dirty slush. His assistant is chattering happily, but Howard isn't listening. He looks into the windows of the shops, admiring the Christmas decorations. 

They pass a little coffee shop that Howard never goes into because he's allergic to hipsters. He glances in and suddenly stumbles to a stop.

"Howard? Are you all right?" his assistant asks.

"I… I want coffee," he says and before his assistant can suggest the Starbucks across the street, he pulls the door open and walks in. The shop is almost empty except for a group of teenagers in the corner. 

The man behind the counter—blond hair, bright blue eyes, broad muscular shoulders, and big hands—smiles and says, "Welcome to SHIELD Coffee. How can I help you today?"

Howard's mouth goes dry as he approaches the counter and notes the man's nametag: Steve. "Coffee," he manages to squeak out and his face goes hot with embarrassment.

"Let me guess," Steve says. "Gingerbread spice latte."

It sounds disgusting, but Howard finds himself nodding.

"I like it, too." Steve chuckles softly. "Actually, it's my favorite."

He nods again, blushing even harder. He reaches into his pocket for his wallet. "H-How much?"

"On the house."

Howard looks up in surprise and Steve's face is pink, but he's smiling. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a seat and I'll bring it to you."

"Okay," he says and finds a table in the corner of the room away from the windows. His assistant sits next to him. 

"I thought you didn't like sweet drinks."

He takes off his jacket and his scarf and lays them on an empty chair. "I do."

"You said flavored coffee drinks were an abomination." His assistant smiles and Howard scowls before looking away.

"Gingerbread spice lattes are my favorite." And just to prove it, when Steve brings his drink, he gulps it down. He burns his tongue, but that's more of a help than a hindrance; the latte is horribly sweet.

***** 

SHIELD Coffee is Howard's favorite place. He goes there every day after classes end. He sits at the table in the corner with his schoolbooks, drinks coffee, and watches Steve work.

Sometimes, Steve will smile and wave. Sometimes, Steve will send over free coffee that's too sweet and too light for Howard's taste, but he drinks it anyway.

Then one day Steve walks over, a big cup in his hands, and says, "Okay if I sit with you?"

Howard feels his face flush and he ducks his head to hide it. "Sure."

"Thanks." Steve settles into a chair with a groan. "The guy who usually opens the shop called in sick so I had to come in extra early. I'm bushed."

"That's too bad." He stares down at his open chemistry book.

"Yeah." Steve clears his throat. "So what's your major?"

"Mechanical engineering and physics."

"Wow, you must pretty smart," Steve says.

"I'm a genius." He closes his book and straightens his papers. "Do you go to school?"

Steve laughs softly. "No, I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up."

"But you're older than me," he blurts out before he can stop himself. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I joined the Army when I got out of high school. I was honorably discharged about a year and a half ago when I blew out my knee." 

"Oh." He wrings his hands. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when it rains." Steve sighs. "I hung around Brooklyn for while, that's where I'm from originally, but after Afghanistan, it wasn't the same. A friend of mine opened this coffee shop about eight months ago and asked if I'd manage it. So here I am."

"You do a good job."

"Thanks." Steve groans and stretches. "I should probably head home. Will I see you tomorrow?"

"What day is tomorrow?" He gives Steve a quick glance, then looks away. 

"Friday."

"Yes, you'll see me tomorrow."

***** 

"What do you do for fun?" his doctor asks.

Howard looks up from his notebook in surprise; that's a new question. "What do you mean?"

"It's not a difficult question, Howard. You're an eighteen-year-old boy who's in his first year of college. What do you do for fun? Do you go to parties? Do you hang out with friends? Have you joined any clubs? Do you go to the movies?"

"I have a 70 inch flat screen TV. Why would I need to go to the movies?"

"You're deflecting, Howard."

He shrugs and taps his heel against the leg of his chair. "I spend a lot of time in the lab working on projects."

"Alone?"

"I like being alone."

"Howard," his doctor says softly, "I don't expect you to turn into a party animal, but you should try to be a little more sociable. Just a bit."

"There's this boy in my chemistry class. I talk to him."

"What's his name?"

"He's got dirty blond hair and gray eyes and I think he gets manicures." Howard looks down at his hands; his nails are ragged and his palms callused. 

"That's a very sparse description, and that's not his name. What's his name?"

"I don't know."

"Did he not tell you his name or did you forget it?"

Howard shrugs and kicks the leg of his chair harder.

"What's my name, Howard?"

"Doctor." He presses his lips together.

"That's not my name. What is my name? Come on, Howard. You see the nameplate on my door every week. What's my name?"

"It's Leo Albright!" He crosses his arms over his chest and closes his eyes. 

"And the boy's name?" Because what Howard does and says is never enough.

"Obadiah."

"It's important to use names, Howard," the doctor says.

"I don’t want to talk anymore. I'm not going to talk anymore." His lips tremble and his breath hitches in his throat but he doesn't cry. Only sissies cry.

*****

Howard is tired. He hasn't been sleeping well and it feels like everyone wants something from him, even his professors. All he wants to do is crawl into bed and stay there, but he knows he can't because his assistant will call his doctor and Howard likes school. He likes school and he likes his apartment and he likes that he can sit for hours in a coffee shop and watch a cute boy serve drinks all day.

Steve's a cute boy and… and Howard likes his smile and…

Howard had a long conversation with his mother about coming home for Christmas. She kept asking and he kept saying no. He can't go back there. He won't go back there. 

He's so tired.

He goes to the coffee shop even though he's supposed to be in class. Steve takes one look at him and brings him a double shot of espresso and a raspberry scone. 

"Thanks," he says, his voice shaking with exhaustion. 

Steve settles into a chair and frowns. "Wanna talk about it?"

He sips the espresso and shrugs. "You're working."

"I'll take an early lunch." Steve nudges Howard's foot. "So talk."

"My mother wants me home for Christmas." He picks at the scone until it's a pile of large crumbs. "She still lives in the house where… where I…" He looks up at Steve, his eyes stinging. "You recognize me, right? You know who I am? What I did?"

"Yeah," Steve says softly. "I know who you are, Howard."

"She says they've remodeled, that it's different." He rubs his eyes. "But I can't do it. I can't—They could tear the place down and rebuild and it'll still be the same to me." He takes a deep breath.

"Then don't go. Tell your ma that you got invited to Christmas with some friends."

Howard looks away and whispers, "I don’t have any friends and she knows it."

Steve touches Howard's hand. "You got me." Howard looks at him in surprise and Steve smiles. "What? You think I give everybody free coffee?"

"N-No." Howard blushes and pulls his hand from Steve's.

"Exactly. Only my close and personal friends get free stuff. And I am planning to stay in town. I was thinking of starting my own traditions. How does pizza and Christmas movies sound to you?" Steve picks up a piece of Howard's scone and eats it.

"You don't know me. I could… Maybe Christmas movies will make me snap."

Steve snorts. "That's a chance I'm willing to take."

***** 

"I'm throwing a New Year's party," the gray-eyed boy says as they sit and wait for the professor to show. "You should come."

"I don’t do well at parties." He glances up at the clock; fifteen minutes until class starts.

"Have you gone to a party since they let you out on parole?"

"I'm not on parole." He leans away from the boy. 

"I throw great parties." The boy puts his hand on Howard's wrist.

Howard tries jerking his hand away, but the boy pins it to the desk; it hurts. "Let go."

"Come to my party," the boy says.

"Okay, now let go!" His heart is beating fast and he feels sick to his stomach.

"Not like that." The boy grins at him. "Look me in the eyes and say, I promise I'll come to your party, Obi. It sounds like fun."

Howard lets out a gasp as the grip on his hand tightens further and looks at Obi. "I promise I'll come to your party, Obi. It sounds like fun. Now please let me go."

Obi squeezes Howard's wrist until his eyes sting, then lets go. "Cool. I'll email you the address."

He cradles his wrist to his chest and stares at Obi, who stares back.

"You're not gonna cry, are you?"

"No," he says angrily.

Obi grins at him, sly and secretive. "Good."

*****

"I didn’t realize Obadiah was a close friend," the doctor says, clasping his hands.

"He's not." Howard's shoes are wet so he slips out of them with a grimace.

"But you're staying at his place for Christmas."

He rolls his eyes because of course his mother would tell the doctor about his plans. "I'm not. Steve asked me to spend Christmas with him."

"Steve?" The doctor starts in surprise. "You've never mentioned Steve before. Is he in one of your classes?"

"No." He rubs his thumb against his jeans and shrugs. "He works at a coffee shop near my apartment. He's got blond hair and blue eyes and sometimes when he's bored he draws funny little cartoons on napkins. He smells like Old Spice."

"You like him."

Howard blinks and gives the doctor an innocent, wide-eyed look. "He's a friend."

The doctor makes a sour face. "Don't prevaricate, Howard."

He huffs softly. "We're just friends, that's all."

"Good. You haven't been out that long. You're not ready to date." 

"I know, okay!" He grits his teeth. "I'm still vulnerable and fragile and I might break if another boy looks at me, I fucking know! Sometimes, I just want to pretend that I'm normal."

"You are normal. You're just—" 

"Oh, fuck you, just fuck you!" He covers his ears and closes his eyes until the doctor walks over and touches his arm. "I wanna go home."

"Okay. You can do that."

***** 

Howard adjusts the collar of shirt and fidgets with the present in his hands before knocking on Steve's front door.

A few moments later, the door opens and Steve smiles at him. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas." Howard holds out the gift and Steve takes the package.

"Thanks." Steve ushers Howard in and takes his coat and scarf. "I got you something, too. It's under the tree." He gestures to the small Christmas tree on the coffee table; there's a box wrapped in bright red paper sitting next to it. "Go on and open it up."

Howard settles on the couch, picks up the gift, rips the paper off, and opens the box. He laughs softly: Steve bought him an "I Love Math" coffee mug. "It's great, thank you." 

Steve grins at him and unwraps his own gift. It's a moleskine folio with acid free paper and a box of pastels. "Oh, oh, wow, Howard."

"Your coworkers told me you're thinking about art school."

"I am." Steve opens his mouth and Howard knows he's gonna tell Howard he can't accept the gift.

"So what are we watching?" Howard expects Steve to pull out the classics, and he does, of a sort. "Christmas cartoons?"

Steve shrugs and turns pink. "Yeah. Don't you like Rudolph, Frosty, and the Grinch?"

"Well, sure, I guess."

Steve sighs and sits on the couch next to Howard. "My mom and I used to watch these every year when I was a kid. After she died, I couldn't bear to watch 'em. But now… they seem almost a comfort. You know?"

"Yeah. For my family it was Christmas music. My mother loves Christmas music. It used to drive my-my dad crazy." Howard's lips tremble and he fights the sudden urge to cry. Steve doesn't say anything or do anything, and for that Howard's grateful. When he manages to pull himself together, he says, "What do we watch first?"

"The Grinch," Steve says with confidence. "It's always the Grinch." 

After the cartoons, they move on to more conventional movies. Steve orders them Chinese food and it's the weirdest Christmas Howard has ever had. But he's not complaining. 

Before he heads back to his apartment that night, he turns to Steve and clears his throat. "A… a friend of mine is having a New Year's party next week. You, um, you wanna go?"

"Oh." Steve looks uncomfortable and Howard's heart sinks. "I can't. I've got closing shift that night."

"No, yeah, of course." Howard gives a high-pitched laugh. "It was stupid of me to ask."

"Hey, no, it wasn't." Steve touches Howard's shoulder. "Give me the address later and maybe I'll try stopping by after work."

He nods. "Okay. I'll do that then."

"Alright." Steve smiles. "Good night, Howard."

"You, too. Merry Christmas, Steve." 

***** 

The party is loud and crowded and he only sees Obi for about five seconds, which is long enough for Obi to shove a cup full of beer into Howard's hand. He finishes off the cup, then graduates to the vodka spiked punch. The vodka makes him queasy, but he keeps drinking it because it blurs the edges.

What he wants, what he *really* wants, is to go home. But he stays just in case Steve can make it for a while. 

Obi finds him sometime later, grabs him by the arm, and drags him to the bedroom. He's drunk and tired so he follows along obediently. Obi kicks everyone out of the room, except for a cute redhead with freckles across his nose and green eyes. "Jacob, this is Howard. Howard, this is Jacob. Jacob thinks you're cute." Then Obi pats Howard on the shoulder, smirks, and leaves.

"Hi," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and looking down.

"Hi." The freckled boy touches Howard's arm and steps closer. "So you go to MIT, too?"

"Yeah." He bites his bottom lip. "I'm double majoring in engineering and physics." 

"I'm majoring in math." The freckled boy steps close to Howard. "I really do think you're cute."

Howard blushes. "I like your freckles."

"I got 'em all over. You wanna see?"

"Oh." Howard's mouth goes dry. He wants to say yes, he really does. "Can we… Can we talk a little first?"

"Sure." The freckled boy sprawls on the bed and looks up at Howard coyly. "Is this your first semester?

Howard nods and clears his throat.

"Me, too." The freckled boy tilts his head. "You look familiar. Do I have you in one of my classes?"

"I don't think so." He smiles shyly. "I'd remember you."

"Are you famous?"

"Am I…" And suddenly Howard wants to cry, or puke, because—oh, God. "I… sort of."

The freckled boy grins. "Were you on Jersey Shore?"

"No." He swallows hard. "My name's Howard Stark."

That makes the freckled boy go very, very pale. "You… Oh. Um… I… I..."

"Your friends are probably wondering where you are," he says, turning away. He closes his eyes and a moment later the door opens, then slams shut. "Shit. Shit, shit, shit!" He gives it ten minutes before the whole party knows who he is. He leans against the windowsill and stares out at the dark, snowy street. A few minutes later, the door opens and he sees Obi's reflection in the glass. "You're a jerk."

"You actually told him who you were *before* he gave you a blowjob? Are you stupid?"

"I hate you." He turns around. "I fucking hate you!"

Obi grins and approaches him. "You love me."

"You're delusional!" He looks away, feeling angry and nauseated. 

Obi shoves Howard up against the wall and gets in his face. "Spare me the poor little rich kid act, Stark. Jesus Christ, they actually got you believing you're nothing but a victim."

Howard shudders and looks at Obi. "Let me go."

"Make me." Obi leans in and whispers in Howard's ear, "Come on, make me. I know you're not a victim. I know you're not some fragile little flower. So fucking make me let you go."

"Why are you doing this?" Howard's shaking and he's not sure why. 

"Because you have power and you don’t even know it." Their noses are practically touching.

"What power?" Howard's never felt so powerless in his life.

"Fear." Obi's eyes light up with excitement. "Fear is power, Howard. Someone fears you enough, they'll do whatever you want, whenever you want. You know that better than anyone." 

He does. God, he does. "I don't want that kind of power."

"Sure you do." Obi takes a few steps back and grins. "You could be so powerful, Howard. No one could ever hurt you again. You know I'm right. That's why you love me, or you will. Because I'm gonna take that power and make you great." He sits on the bed and pats the space next to him. 

Howard knows he should leave, he should walk out, but he sits down instead. "And you're just gonna help me. For nothing?"

"It's always good to have powerful friends, Howard." Obi leans back on his elbows. "Tell me you not tired of being weak. Scared." 

He stares down at his sneakers.

"What was it like slitting that bastard's throat?" Obi asks softly. "Did it feel good?"

Howard's breath stutters out of him. "Yeah, yeah, it felt good."

Obi laughs. "That's what I thought."

***** 

He hates that Obi is right. They did convince him that he was a victim. But he's not. A victim wouldn’t have done what he did. He's strong, stronger than they think he is.

And maybe he's a little drunk. Or a lot drunk.

Yes, definitely a lot drunk. 

He walks home and his head is spinning and his stomach feels like it's going to rebel at any moment. But it's quiet and snowing and his cheeks hurt from the cold and he's drunk. He's strong.

He passes the coffee house and looks in when he sees a light. Steve is… Steve is sitting at one of the tables, sketching something out on a napkin. Howard leans his forehead against the glass of the window and knocks

Steve's head jerks up in surprise and he smiles when he sees Howard. Howard smiles back, then he turns his head and is sick all over the sidewalk. Ugh. 

A moment later, the door to the shop opens and Steve puts an arm around Howard's shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he says, wiping his mouth on his jacket. "I’m drunk."

"I can see that." Steve maneuvers him into the coffee shop and pushes him onto a chair. "Where's Darren?"

"Who?" Howard frowns at him.

"Your assistant," Steve says slowly, like he's stupid.

"Oh. He's got the night off." He takes a deep breath. "You didn't come to the party." 

"It was late." Steve grabs a bottle of water from the display case and hands it to Howard. 

"It was a New Year's Eve party." He opens the bottle and drinks deeply. "I waited for you."

"I'm sorry." Steve looks away. 

And suddenly Howard understands. "You lied. You were never gonna go to the party."

"I didn't lie! I said I would try to…" Steve swallows hard and rubs his mouth. "I don't do well in crowds."

"Neither do I, but I went." Howard slams the bottle on the table. Disappointment makes his chest ache.

"I'm really sorry," Steve says softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

He slumps in his seat and picks at the water bottle label. "I really like you, Steve."

"I really like you, too, Howard. " Steve sighs and rubs his face. "Look, you're drunk and I'm tired. Why don't I walk you home?"

"Yeah. Sure." He stumbles to his feet and when Steve tries to help him, he jerks away.

***** 

"Fuck him," Obi says, slinging an arm around Howard's shoulders. "You don't need the asshole. You got me."

"Right." He smiles at Obi and tells himself to grow some balls. 

"I'll even be nice and give you a blowjob." Obi drops to his knees and mimes the act.

Howard rolls his eyes and shoves Obi away with a laugh.

***** 

Howard manages to stay away from the coffee shop for three whole weeks before he gives in to his craving for one of their gingerbread spice lattes. 

Steve is wiping down the tables when Howard comes in and he smiles and waves. 

Howard ignores the greeting. Instead, he pays for his coffee and settles down at his favorite table to start in on the reading for the next semester. He gets through most of the first chapter before Steve sits at the table.

"I haven't seen you for awhile," Steve says, fidgeting.

"I've been busy. Sort of busy now." He stares at the words on the page, but he's not actually reading anything.

"Oh. Sorry." Steve gets to his feet, but he doesn't walk away. He clears his throat. "I wasn't trying to be a jerk, Howard. I'm just not good at this sort of thing. I got scared. You don't have to forgive me, you don't. But you gotta know that I never meant to hurt you." 

Steve turns to go and Howard says, "Wait. Just… wait." He takes a deep breath and looks up at Steve; this is stupid, but that's never stopped him before. "My assistant has Fridays off. And I… I usually hang around the apartment, order pizza, and watch movies. You could come over next Friday, around seven, hang out with me. If you want."

"Okay." Steve smiles. "I'd like that. 

He nods and returns to his book. 

*****

"It's not a date," Howard says, curling his body away from Obi.

"It's a fucking date, Howard. Jesus Christ, you're just gonna let him stomp all over you. He's just gonna hurt you, you know that, right?"

He closes his eyes. "It's pizza and a movie." 

Obi makes a sound of disgust. "Fine, but don’t come crying to me when he stands you up again."

***** 

"We talked about this," the doctor says, a frown on his face.

"It's not a date. It's not! We're just hanging out, like friends!" Howard crosses his arms over his chest.

"You like this boy."

"As a friend!" He fights the urge to storm out of the room.

"You're not ready for a romantic entanglement."

"Fuck you!" He jumps to his feet. "You don't get to decide that. I get to decide that. I get to decide when I'm ready."

The doctor blinks up at him, calm and collected. "Do you think you're ready? And be honest, do you?"

Howard falters and slumps back down in his chair. He wants to say that he is, he's ready. But the doctor told him to be honest. "I don't know. But I won't find out until I try. Steve's a nice guy. He won't push me. I think he's looking for something slow, too." 

The doctor sighs. "I want you to promise me that you'll call me or Darren if things get too overwhelming for you."

He almost protests, but after a moment, he sighs and says, "Alright. I promise." 

*****

Steve brings a six-pack of root beer and a box of microwave popcorn. "It's organic," he says of the popcorn, his ears turning red.

"Cool." He clears his throat and shuffles his feet. "The pizza's keeping warm in the oven, so I guess we're all set."

"Yeah." Steve nods. "What are we watching?" 

"Star Wars." He looks down at his feet.

"Oh, good. I don't really like gory movies.

"No," Howard says softly, "I don't either."

"Right." Steve sounds slightly horrified. "So, um, do you need me to do anything?"

"Just sit down." He gestures to the couch, then hurries out of the room. When he gets to the kitchen, he leans against the counter and reminds himself to breathe. Jesus, what's wrong with him? It's pizza and a movie! This isn't a date! They're friends! It's okay. Everything's okay. He splashes some water on his face, takes the pizza out of the warm oven, and grabs a couple of cans of root beer. He takes another deep breath before walking back into the living room.

Steve jumps to his feet and grabs the sodas; he smiles shyly at Howard.

Howard smiles back, his cheeks burning. A few minutes later, they're both on the couch—not touching, there's no touching—eating pizza and watching _A New Hope_.

It's weird at first, weirder than the first time they did this at Christmas. Every time Steve shifts, Howard tenses and looks over. But Steve seems oblivious to the whole thing. Steve doesn't try to scoot closer or put his arm around Howard or even lean in and whisper in his ear. Maybe… Maybe he expects Howard to do it? 

The very idea makes Howard's stomach clench. He bites his bottom lip and turns back to the movie.

"Which is your favorite," Steve asks softly, and Howard jumps a bit.

"My—Oh, um, Empire." He licks his lips and glances over at Steve, who's nodding.

"Thought it might be. This one's mine." He smiles, stretches, and lets his hand rest in the space between them.

Howard hums and glances down at Steve's hand, half-curled and so close to Howard's thigh. He lets out a little huff, stares at the TV screen, and rests his hand on Steve's. There's a tense moment when nothing happens, then Steve moves his hand, threading his fingers through Howard's and squeezing gently.

"I like the Ewoks," Steve confesses.

"Philistine." Howard smiles.

***** 

They get through _Empire Strikes Back_ before Steve decides it's getting late and he should head home. 

Howard walks him to the door and stands there awkwardly while Steve bundles up. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for inviting me." Steve shifts from one foot to the other. "I had a really great time."

"Me, too." He wonders if Steve is going to kiss him. He wonders if he wants Steve to kiss him. "Maybe we could do it again soon."

"Yeah, I'd like that." Steve reaches over and runs a finger down Howard's cheek. "Maybe next Friday?"

He nods, his face going hot. "We could watch _Return of the Jedi_."

"It's a date."

Howard tenses and he's not sure why. "Right, a date."

"Unless you don't want it to be," Steve says quickly. 

"No, no, I do. I do." He does. He takes a deep breath and steps closer to Steve. "A date."

Steve smiles and touches Howard's face again. "I'll see you Monday?"

"Uh huh." He tilts his head up and licks his lips.

"Okay." Steve takes a step back and fumbles with the door before getting it open. "See you then."

"Monday." He closes the door behind Steve and curses softly. God, he's such an idiot. 

***** 

"So," Obi says the next day as they're hanging out in Howard's living room, drinking cheap beer and watching ESPN—well, Obi is because he likes sports, who fucking knew? "How was he?"

Howard frowns and looks up from his physics book. "How was who with what?"

Obi rolls his eyes and kicks Howard in the thigh. Hard. Howard yelps and glares at him, but Obi doesn't look like he cares. "Your Ken doll. Was he a good fuck?"

"What are you, my shrink?" He rubs his thigh. "Ow, fucking, ow. That's gonna leave a bruise."

"Don't be a pussy, Howard." Obi grins and tilts his head. "You guys didn't fuck, did you?"

"That's none of your business."

"So that's a no. Hmm." Obi's eyes go cold and his grin turns sharp and cruel. "You're a virgin."

"That's really none of your business." Howard rises to his feet—he needs another beer—but Obi grabs him by the wrist. "Let go." 

Obi yanks him back down on the couch and straddles his thighs: Howard looks away. "I've never fucked a virgin before."

"You're not fucking one now." He's tense and his stomach knots up.

"Aww, baby." Obi leans in and nuzzles his ear. "You know I love you."

He closes his eyes and clenches his hands. "Stop it."

"He doesn't know you like I do, Howard." Obi licks his ear and makes his shudder. "He doesn't know all the dark places inside of you. Let me open you up. Let me get inside of you."

"I mean it, Obi. Stop it. I don’t want this." His voice is trembling. He's trembling.

Obi reaches down and rubs Howard's crotch. "You're hard. God, you're so fucking hard. Doesn't this feel good? Why would you want that to stop?"

"I just do." Howard moans and fights the urge to arch up. 

"Then make me stop." Obi nips his earlobe. "Punch me, push me off, bite my neck so hard that I bleed out. Come on, Howard, either make me stop or shut the fuck up."

He shakes his head and bites his lip so hard he tastes blood. It doesn't take much after that, just a few more rubs from Obi before he's coming in his jeans. A moment later he hears the sound of a zipper being pulled down, then Obi is moaning and rubbing up against his stomach and chest. He wants to shove Obi off, he wants to scream. But he doesn't. He just sits there and takes it, feeling small and ashamed. He doesn't open his eyes again until after Obi's done and sitting next to him on the couch. The room is too bright and Obi is drinking another beer, face flushed. 

"You should clean up, Howard. You're a mess." Obi glances his way and makes a moue of disgust.

Howard narrows his eyes and clenches his hands into fists. He remembers the overpowering smell of blood and wet sounds of dying. He lets out an angry growl and… and Obi cries out when Howard punches him hard enough to break his nose.

***** 

"I'm so fucking proud of you," Obi says thickly. "Now take me to the goddamn hospital before I choke to death on my own blood."

*****

The second date is better. They watch _Return of the Jedi_ and _ET_ and Steve holds his hand and leans in every once in a while to whisper in his ear.

It's nice. It's normal. It makes Howard's heart race and his mouth dry and he wonders if he's falling in love.

"I want to kiss you," he says when the movies are over. 

Steve blushes and smiles. "Are you sure? I know this is all new for you. I don't want you to think that you have to. I—"

He presses his fingers against Steve's mouth to stop the flow of words, then curls his hand around the back of Steve's neck and pulls him close. "I want to kiss you."

"Okay," Steve whispers and holds very still. 

Howard leans in and brushes their mouths together. Then he pulls back, body tense, and he realizes he's waiting, waiting for—No. He turns his head and stares at the wall.

"You're safe. We're both safe." Steve's voice is soft and he doesn't touch Howard. "You know, when I was kid, I was pretty scrawny. But I had a mouth on me. I didn't know when to shut up. I got into a lot of trouble. I was the kid that bullies loved to beat up. I'm not scrawny anymore and I can take care of myself. But sometimes, I… It's hard to forget the lesson you learn when you're a kid. It's hard to let go of those reactions."

"It was a good kiss."

"It was a great kiss." Steve takes a deep breath. "But just because we kiss once, doesn't mean we've gotta do it again. We don't have to do anything that scares you or makes you uncomfortable. Okay?"

He nods.

"Do you want me to go home?"

Howard shakes his head and holds out his hand; he's still looking away.

Steve takes his hand and squeezes it. They sit quietly like that for another hour before Steve heads home. 

***** 

He doesn't tell the doctor about the kiss or about Obi. He says just enough to keep the doctor from suggesting another stay at the hospital.

***** 

Obi lounges on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his fingers laced together, resting on his stomach. 

Howard is sitting in a chair, watching him, thinking about crawling into bed with him. "Sometimes, I dream about it. About slitting his throat. My doctor assumes they're nightmares."

"Your doctor probably had a dad who hugged him and went to all his baseball games." Obi's voice is sharp with bitterness. 

"Probably." He rubs his nose and shrugs. "Sometimes they are."

Obi rolls his eyes. "Why are you telling me this shit, anyway? Don't you have a boyfriend for this touchy-feely crap?"

"We don't talk about this stuff. I don’t want to scare him off." 

"He already knows you killed your dad. If that didn't scare him off, I don't know that a few not quite nightmares will."

Howard shrugs and sucks on his bottom lip; Obit stretches and yawns. "If I ask you to give me a blowjob, will you?"

Obi gives him a startled look. "What?"

"Will you give me a blowjob?" he asks.

"No!"

"Okay." He checks his watch, then gets to his feet. "My assistant is supposed to pick me up in a few minutes. I'm gonna wait outside for him."

"Wait." Obi actually blushes. "Okay."

Howard feels a little thrill. "I've changed my mind," he says and heads out the door.

***** 

Howard was born with a silver spoon in his mouth; his family has always had servants. He's never even cleaned his own room. So he enjoys helping Steve close the coffee shop. He finds it fun to wipe down the tables, sweep, and mop. 

When they're done, they usually head to Steve's apartment. This time is different. 

Steve pulls up a chair and gestures for Howard to do the same. "I need to talk to you about something. I don't want you to freak out, okay?"

"Okay," he says, and his pulse races.

"I'm not going to be able to hang out with you this Friday." Steve takes his hand. "I've got to drive home; a friend of mine is getting married. My best friend, actually."

Howard frowns and tries to remember what Steve has said about his friend. "B-Bucky, right? His name's Bucky?"

"Yeah, that's right." Steve smiles at him and squeezes his hand. "He's getting married on Sunday and I have to do the whole bachelor party thing." 

"Oh, right." Howard looks down at the table; there's a scratch in the surface. "I could go with you."

"I… I don't think that's a good idea. " Steve's voice is soft and there's a slight tremor.

Then Howard remembers something else Steve told him about Bucky; he's a cop. He looks up. "Is it because I'm a murderer?" 

"What?" Steve blinks at him in surprise. "No! You're not—" 

"Yes, I am. I'm a murderer," he says. He's tired of talking around the subject. "I killed my dad. I slit his throat and watched him die." 

"You think I haven't—"Steve cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, then says, softly. "I was a soldier."

"It's different when it's someone you love." Someone you're supposed to love.

"I know that." Steve sighs and rubs his face. 

"It's okay. Lots people are afraid of me. One of my professors refuses to be alone with me." He smiles. "It makes office hours really awkward." 

"Jeez, Howard." Steve swallows hard. 

He shrugs, then looks away. "Are you afraid of me?"

"No!" Steve grips him by the chin. "Look at me." When Howard does, Steve leans in and kisses him, hard. "I am not afraid of you. I have never been afraid of you. I didn't ask you to come home with me because, yeah, my friends would be uncomfortable and I knew it would hurt you." 

"I don't care about them. I don't care—If you want me there, I'll go."

Steve searches his face and Howard does his best not to hide what he's feeling. A moment later, Steve nods, once, and huffs quietly. "You wanna go to a wedding with me?"

Howard lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah, yeah, I do." 

***** 

When Howard tells Obi, he makes a disgusted noise and grimaces. "If you come back with the bridal bouquet, I will grab a pillow and put you out of your fucking misery."

*****

Steve listens to boy bands, which shouldn’t surprise Howard because Steve drinks caramel lattes with extra caramel and whipped cream, but it does. Steve is twenty-five, Steve was a captain in the Army, Steve is big and buff and should not listen to old 'N Sync CDs. But he does and Howard wants to cry a little. 

"If you don't like it, we can listen to the radio," Steve says, because maybe Howard said that whole spiel out loud.

"No, no, it's fine. It's your car, you're driving." He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out the window.

"There's nothing wrong with caramel lattes. They're delicious." Steve turns up the volume.

Ugh.

***** 

He gets a room at The Plaza, because as much as he likes Steve, he's not staying in Red Hook. Besides, he should probably keep contact with Steve's friends to a minimum. 

Steve drops him off in front of the hotel with a promise that they'll meet for lunch tomorrow. Howard waves him off, then checks in. 

He stays in his room long enough to unpack before heading out. 

*****

Howard walks into the Stark Industries corporate office like he owns the place. Which he does, sort of. He ignores the stares and the whispers and the way people suddenly rush away. He signs in at the security desk and takes the elevator up to the top floor. 

A secretary is waiting for him when the elevator doors open and he steps out. She used to be his dad's secretary. "Hello, Mrs. Conroy," he says, smiling at her. "Is my brother in?"

"Hello, dear." Her smile is forced and she flits around him like a hummingbird. "Your brother is in a meeting right now. But you can wait in his office."

Obi calls this power, but all it does is leave Howard feeling weak. "Thank you. You don't need to show me the way."

She laughs, high and scared, and he hurries away so he won't have to deal with her anymore.

The office is completely different, but that's to be expected. His brother has always had a more minimalistic style than their father. Howard sits in one of the guest chairs, hands clasped in his lap, and waits.

An hour passes before the door opens and his brother comes into the room. He gets to his feet, back straight, eyes forward.

"Howard!" His brother smiles and rushes forward, pulling Howard into an embrace. "What are you doing here? Mom didn’t tell me you were visiting."

Tears prickle in his eyes and he grabs a hold of Eddie and hugs him tightly.

"Easy there, Howard. Easy." Eddie rubs small circles along his back and doesn't pull away.

He buries his face against Eddie's shirt and does his best to pull himself together. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me."

"I always wanna see you, kiddo. Always." Eddie gives him a couple more minutes, then pulls away. "What are you doing here? Where's your assistant?"

Howard clears his throat and rubs his eyes. "A friend of mine had to drive up here for a wedding and he invited me along. I'm staying at The Plaza."

"And your assistant?" Eddie clicks his tongue when Howard doesn't say anything. "You ditched him." 

Howard shrugs and Eddie ruffles his hair. 

"You're a menace. Have you been by to visit Mom yet?"

"No," he says softly. "Eddie, I can't. I can't go there. I… I just can't."

"No, of course you can't." Eddie sighs. "Why don't I call Mom and have her meet us at my place? We'll have dinner and talk. In the meantime, you can call your assistant and let him know where you are. Okay?"

Howard nods. "Okay." 

***** 

His mother hugs him and presses kisses to his forehead and cheeks.

Eddie rolls his eyes and says, "Mom, Mom, give him some room to breathe."

"I can't help it." She pulls away, her eyes shining with tears. "I’m so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you, too." He looks away and hunches his shoulders.

"What are you doing here, sweetheart?" She strokes his hair back from his face.

"I'm going to a wedding with a friend of mine." Howard shoves his hands in his pockets. "Thought I'd see you two while I was here."

"Where are you staying?" she asks hopefully.

"He's staying with me, Mom." Eddie grins and slings an arm around Howard's shoulders. "We're gonna have some guy time."

"Good, that's good." His mother takes a deep breath and smiles. "So this friend… is he a… a boyfriend?"

"No, he's just a friend."

"I'd like to meet him. Maybe we could have dinner or breakfast, if you like? Howard?" She takes a step towards him and he pulls away from Eddie to move across the room. 

"He's the best man, so he's busy." He picks up a little metal sculpture off the media center. "Can we get dinner soon? I'm hungry."

"Sure," Eddie says. "I'll order Thai." 

*****

"Thanks for covering for me earlier. If she knew I was staying at The Plaza she probably would have insisted I stay at the mansion."

"Don't worry about it." Eddie hands Howard a glass of scotch, then settles on the couch. "You and your friend could stay here, you know. I've got a guest bedroom." 

Howard sips his drink and shrugs. "I don't want to be an inconvenience."

"You're my brother. You could never be an inconvenience." Eddie stretches out his leg and nudges Howard. "Come on, stay with me. Pretty please?"

He smiles and nudges him back. "Okay." 

Eddie grins and tilts his head. "So this guy's…"

"He's not my boyfriend!" he says, exasperated.

"Okay, but do you want him to be?"

"Why?" Howard stares into his glass before taking a drink. "Are you gonna tell me I'm not ready if I say yes?"

"If you need me to." Eddie leans over and touches his arm. "Do you need me to?"

"I like him. I really like him, but we're taking it slow. I mean, we've only kissed a couple of times." He looks up at Eddie. "He's a really nice guy." 

"Glad to hear it. I'd hate to have to use my resources to utterly destroy him. Which I still might do if he hurts you."

"Eddie." Howard rolls his eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"I know. I know you can. I just… I…" Eddie sighs. "I know I've been crappy brother up until now—"

"What?" Howard shakes his head, his eyes wide with surprise. "No, you haven't!"

"Yes, I have. Hey, I have." Eddie rubs his mouth and leans back. He's quiet for a few moments, then says, "I should have protected you from Dad."

"Eddie, no!" He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to talk about this.

"Yes. Howard, he was an abusive monster and I knew it. Mom knew it. We were supposed to protect you. We were supposed to take care of you." Eddie's voice is trembling. Howard shakes his head and opens his mouth, but Eddie continues, "You were a kid. You should have never been that position. It was our job to keep you safe and we failed. We both failed." 

Howard finishes his drink, then turns away from Eddie. "I don’t want to talk about this." 

"Howard—"

"I don’t want to talk about it!" He clutches the glass in his hands and closes his eyes. 

"Okay. I'm sorry." Eddie sniffles and clears his throat. "I love you."

"I know." He bites his bottom lip and opens his eyes. "Can I have another drink?"

"Yeah." Eddie grabs his glass. "I could use another one too." 

***** 

They meet for lunch at a deli a few blocks from Eddie's apartment. It's small and quiet and no one looks at him when he sits down with his pastrami on rye, extra mustard and bag of chips. 

Steve walks in a few minutes after he sits down, wearing faded jeans and a tight blue t-shirt that matches his eyes. He smiles when he sees Howard and slips into the booth across from him. 

"You don't look hung over," Howard says, licking a bit of mustard off his thumb and tilting his head.

"That's because I'm not." Steve steals one of his chips and leans back in his seat. "I was the designated sober person." 

"Oh. It went well, then?" 

Steve shrugs. "We got kicked out of a strip club." 

He smiles at that. "Isn't that how they're supposed to turn out?"

"So I've been told." Steve steals another chip and Howard sighs and hands the bag over. "Thanks. How was your night?"

"I saw my mother and Eddie." He's quiet until Steve kicks him under the table. "My mother was… herself. But it was nice to see Eddie, talk to him. He invited us to stay at his place. I hope you don’t mind, but I decided to take him up on the offer."

"Of course I don’t mind. You should spend time with your family while we're here." 

"What about your friends? Did you tell them about me? Do they mind me coming to the wedding?" He doesn’t want to take focus away from the bride and groom. He doesn't want people staring at him and whispering about him.

"They're fine with it." Steve smiles and takes Howard's hand. "The rehearsal is this evening, so we have about five hours to kill. What do you want to do after lunch?"

"I don't care. Whatever you want."

Steve grins and squeezes his hand.

***** 

Whatever Steve wants turns out to be hanging out at a coffee shop and people watching.

"But we do this all the time," Howard protests.

"No, you do this all the time," Steve says, looking out the window and sipping his peppermint hot chocolate. "I work." 

"Fine." Howard rolls his eyes. "What's so exciting about this anyway?" 

"That's just it, Howard. It's not exciting. It's interesting." Steve reaches over and covers Howard's hand. "Like that guy right there."

"The creeper?" There's a man in a trench coat, dark sunglasses, and a knit cap standing outside the coffee shop trying to look inconspicuous and failing miserably. "What about him?" 

"I bet he's a spy waiting for his contact to meet him." Steve grins at him. "He's probably going to save the world."

"Really, because I think he's probably waiting for a group of girls to flash." Steve laughs at that and Howard feel warmth in the pit of his stomach and he looks away to hide the sudden flush in his face.

"I hope not. It's still pretty cold out. He might catch a cold. Or frostbite." 

"Thems the breaks." He glances at Steve, who's smiling at him. "What?"

"Will you dance with me at the reception?"

He chuckles nervously. "I’m your date. I think that's part of the job description." 

"Yeah." Steve brings Howard's hand up and kisses his knuckles.

He blushes and his mouth goes dry. 

***** 

When Steve introduces him to the bride and groom—Natasha and Bucky, Steve says—the bride kisses his cheek and thanks him for coming to the rehearsal dinner. She has red hair and an easy smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"Will you be attending the wedding as well?" she asks.

He nods and shuffles closer to Steve, who puts an arm around him.

"It's nice to meet you," the groom says, though it doesn't sound like it. He doesn't bother smiling when he shakes Howard's hand. He has brown hair and blue eyes that sweep over Howard, calculating, cold.

Howard trembles and offers a weak smile. "It's nice to meet the both of you, too. Steve speaks highly of you."

When they move on, he slumps into his chair and closes his eyes. He shouldn’t have come, he should have stayed at Eddie's. He—

Steve wakes his hand and squeezes. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He opens his eyes. "I could use a drink, though." 

***** 

Howard is pretty tipsy after the rehearsal dinner. They both are actually. When the get back to Eddie's apartment, they try to be quiet, but Steve trips over the coffee table and Howard laughs because it's the funniest thing he's ever seen.

"Shh," Steve says, climbing to his feet. He puts his hand over Howard's mouth, so Howard retaliates by vigorously licking is palm. Steve drops his hand and grimaces. "Disgusting!"

"Shh." Howard giggles softly and clutches at Steve's shirt. "You're gonna wake Eddie." He covers Steve's mouth with his own. Oh, that's much better. So much better. He parts his lips when Steve licks at his mouth and moans.

"Howard? Is that you— Oh, hey!" Eddie stumbles to a stop, eyes widening; Steve jerks back in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't realize—"

"No," Steve says, his face bright red and his back so straight he's practically standing at attention. "We weren't—We just—" He stops and takes a deep breath. "Um, hello, Mr. Stark. I’m Steve."

Eddie shakes Steve's hand. "Call me Eddie. Everything okay, Howard?"

Howard rubs his mouth and stares down at his shoes. "Yeah. Fine." 

"I left some blankets on the couch for you, Steve. There are more in the linen closet in the hall." Eddie gives Steve a stern look.

Steve swallows hard. "Yes, sir—Mr.—Eddie." 

"Breakfast is at eight." Eddie smiles and not very nicely. "We'll talk then."

Howard nods and doesn't say anything until he hears Eddie's bedroom door shut. He snickers. "I thought you were gonna salute him." 

"Your brother is going to skin me alive."

"Not before breakfast. Don't worry, you'll like your last meal. He makes great French toast. " He smiles when Steve glares at him. "In for a penny, in for a pound?"

"What?" Steve blurts out.

Howard fidgets and looks away. "The couch looks uncomfortable and the guest bed is king sized." Steve is quiet, so Howard continues, "Just to sleep. I'm not… I… You need to be in good shape for tomorrow." 

"I…" Steve quirks his mouth and lets out a huff of air "Okay, but just to sleep." 

***** 

It's a mistake. He knows it's a mistake as soon as Steve slips into bed with him and all he can do is stare up into the darkness, tense and afraid and grimly satisfied. The past three and a half years have been as near to carefully constructed perfection as one can get and he's tired of it.

He reaches over and fumbles around until he finds Steve's wrist. He wraps his hand around it and holds on tight. "I don't know that I'll ever be ready."

"I don't care." 

"You say that now, but—"

"Shut up, Howard." Steve breaks out of Howard's grip, only to thread their fingers together. "I want a good night's sleep before my last meal." He yawns and squeezes Howard's hand. "Don't snore."

***** 

When Howard wakes, he's alone. He lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to remember where he is and when he is. He rubs his eyes and stretches, then he remembers: Eddie and Steve and weddings.

Oh. Oh, no. Steve. 

Howard scrambles out of bed and almost trips on the carpet as he rushes out to makes sure Eddie didn't kill Steve and hide the body. He finds them in the kitchen, sitting at the table, laughing. Steve looks over at him and smiles.

"Glad to see you're finally up, lazybones," Eddie says. "There's French toast warming in the oven for you."

He lets out a sigh of relief. "Coffee." 

"Let me get that for you." Steve gets to his feet and moves to the counter. He pours Howard a cup of coffee with a splash of milk, and a half a teaspoon of sugar. Then he offers it to Howard with a kiss on the cheek and a playful grin.

Howard blushes and sips his coffee; it's perfect.

***** 

"He's a nice guy," Eddie says, smiling, as they sit at the table, drinking coffee. 

Steve's gone, off to do best man things before the ceremony. Before he leaves, he reminds Howard to be at the church before two. 

"I told you." He licks a bit of syrup off his knuckles and shrugs. "Thank you for not scaring him off." 

"I tried, but he's as stubborn as you are." Eddie kicks him under the table and Howard kicks back. "Just promise me you won't rush this."

"I promise." He licks his lips and rubs his mouth. 

"I wanna talk to you about something. About this summer."

"What about it?"

"I want you to come back to New York for the summer. I could really use you in R&D," Eddie says softly. "If you don’t want to stay with me, we'll get you an apartment."

"I don't know." Howard runs his thumb through a sticky puddle of maple syrup. "I'll think about it."

"I'll even find a job for your boyfriend."

Howard looks up. "He's not my boyfriend." 

Eddie laughs and pats his cheeks. "Oh, Howard. He really, really is." 

***** 

The wedding is solemn and beautiful. The reception is another story. There's music and alcohol. A lot of alcohol. 

Howard winds up dancing with all of the bridesmaids, a couple of the groomsmen, and a little old lady who keep pinching his butt and calling him adorable. He even takes a couple of turns with the bride who promises to gut him like a fish if he hurts Steve. He doesn't think she's joking. 

Afterward, she deposits him at Steve's side, then makes her way toward her new husband. Steve doesn't say anything, he just takes Howard's hand and leads him to a little room off the side that they're using as a coatroom. Steve settles on the floor and gestures for Howard to do the same. 

He sighs and slumps next to Steve in the dimly lit room

"Your brother's scary," Steve says, loosening his bowtie. 

"So are your friends. And there are more of them." Steve hums softly and leans his head on Howard's shoulder. And it's nice, quiet and intimate. Howard feels all the tension leave his body. 

"I was supposed to be the one who got married first, you know." Steve's voice is soft and wistful "I… I had a girl. She was a British officer I worked with a lot. We were engaged."

"What happened?" Howard asks, just as quietly. "Did she die?"

"No." Steve laughs. "We had a joint mission, her team and mine. I made a bad call. I made a couple of bad calls and she got shot. She's fine now. She's perfectly fine, but I couldn't… I can't shake it off, you know? "

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." He closes his eyes and lets out a deep breath.

"So after your brother finished threatening me, he offered me a job."

Howard chuckles and shakes his head. "He wants me to move back to New York for the summer."

"Oh." Steve puts an arm around his shoulders. "Do you want to come back for the summer?"

"No." He opens his eyes and looks at Steve. "But you should take the job if you want it."

"What do you want to do then?"

He wants to go back in time and be fifteen again. He wants to make different choices. He wants to be a different person. "I… I want to stay in Cambridge. I want to fire my assistant and my shrink and get drunk with my best friend and watch movies with my boyfriend. I want to learn how to drive and… I want to do everything but stay here for the summer." 

"Okay." Steve nods. "Do that then. I'll even teach you how to drive, if you want." 

"What about my brother's job?"

Steve shrugs and kisses his cheek. "I’m not ready to come back either." With a loud grunt, Steve climbs to his feet. "Come on. You own me a couple of dances." 

***** 

"Be forewarned," Obi says when Howard calls him on the way home. "I have my pillows fluffed and ready to smother you."

"Are you coming on to me? Seriously, I don't know whether to be scared or turned on right now." He props his feet on the dashboard, earning a dirty look from Steve.

"Don't make me throw up. Did you catch the bouquet?" 

"Nope." He smiles. "The garter belt." 

"Ugh, you would." Obi lets out a heavy sigh." When are you coming back? I'm bored." 

Howard rolls his eyes. "We're actually on our way back now. Steve and I are gonna watch a movie at my place. You can come if you want."

"Only if there's booze. There's gonna be booze, right?

"I've got beer in the fridge. But bring your fake ID because Steve checks them." He laughs when Steve nudges him in the ribs.

"God, you're so whipped," Obi says in a disgusted tone.

"Whatever. We'll be home in an hour. Bring pizza." He hangs up and grins at Steve. "You're gonna hate Obi's guts." 

"I'm sure we'll be fine." Steve takes his hand.

"You're gonna want to punch him in the nose. *I* want to punch him in the nose." 

"Then why be friends with him?" Steve asks.

"Because I can." Howard shrugs and turns up the radio.


End file.
